


(I Still) Adore You

by ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Getting Back Together, I hurt Jun and I'm sorry, Lack of Communication, M/M, Multi, Post-Break Up, Relationship Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, he'll get 3 boyfriends who love him at the end though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 15:19:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass/pseuds/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass
Summary: He was never supposed to see any of them again.





	(I Still) Adore You

**Author's Note:**

> Presently a one shot but likely to be developed further at some point.
> 
> Author’s disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters I write about are based off of real people but are by no means intended to represent real people; the personalities I write are inferred from public personas and should not be taken as accurate portrayals of their real world counterparts.
> 
> I’ve been around enough to see people confusing fiction with reality, so before you read my story, I implore you to recognize these as characters, not celebrities. Please don’t project what you read in stories onto real people. Please respect real people.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy my fic.

Junhui likes Saturdays. He likes Saturdays so much, he might even say he loves them. It seems this particular Saturday is not his day, however, and as he sits in his favorite café, a warm mug of tea in front of him, his day is destroyed.

He was never supposed to see Minghao again, yet here he is - and if Minghao is here, does that mean Mingyu and Wonwoo are too? Junhui can’t think about it. He just can’t. Thinking about it makes his chest feel tight, and it’s confusing since he doesn’t know if it’s in a good way or a bad way. Are his lungs collapsing because he doesn’t want to see them or because he wants nothing more than that?

It doesn’t matter what he wants. Junhui made his choice. He threw those feelings away, not Wonwoo, not Mingyu, not Minghao. Him. He ran away and left them, so he has no right to want anything from any of them anymore. But, when Minghao spots him, his eyes widening before he takes quick steps towards Junhui, does he have the right to run again? Whether he does or not, Junhui can’t make himself act, sitting frozen as Minghao approaches.

“Junhui,” he says once he’s standing next to Junhui’s table. “It’s really you,” he breathes, soft and slow, eerily calm, which is funny because Junhui feels like he’s about to hyperventilate.

He was never supposed to see any of them again.

“Minghao,” Junhui chokes out against the lump in his throat. He looks just like Junhui remembers, which makes it so he can’t look at Minghao for long, dropping his gaze down to his lap instead. He pulls the ends of his sleeves up over his fingertips, a distraction from the way he can feel Minghao staring at him.

There are definitely questions in Minghao’s head, and Junhui expects the obvious ones. What happened? What did we do wrong? Simply, why? Surprisingly, however, he doesn’t reach for any of those. What Minghao does do is clear his throat and ask, “How have you been?”

Somehow it hurts more for Minghao to ignore what Junhui did to the three of them, for him to play nice like Junhui is an old friend and not someone who abandoned him. It would be so much easier if Minghao would just throw his tea, or anything really, in Junhui’s face and leave. Junhui would deserve that.

“Fine,” Junhui eventually replies, looking up only to stare out of the café’s front window. If he ran outside, all the way to the sea, and threw himself into the waves, would Minghao follow him? Probably. Minghao is as stubborn as he is loyal, which is to say, excessively so. There’s no getting out of this encounter, so Junhui glances back at Minghao, resigns himself to formality, and asks, “What about you?”

“Good. I’ve been- I’ve been good,” Minghao stutters. “Mingyu and Wonwoo are good too. We actually just moved here a few weeks ago because of Mingyu’s job. He was promoted.” So it is all of them, and they’ve _moved_ here.

“That’s great,” Junhui quietly says, wrapping his arms around himself. Then he licks his lips, swallows, and murmurs, “You cut your hair.”

Minghao lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck as he says, “Yeah, I did it for the summer. I thought it would keep me cooler.” He blinks at Junhui for a moment before he adds, “You dyed yours.”

Suddenly Junhui realizes how ridiculous he must look, wearing a stretched out T-shirt and an oversized cardigan with his hair a faded shade of pink. He’s a mess compared to Minghao, whose hair is a reasonable color, warm brown, and is properly dressed in a nice, button down shirt. Which, really looking at it, Junhui’s pretty sure is actually one of Wonwoo’s shirts - he recognizes the almost imperceptible stain on the sleeve as the one he put there on Valentine’s day … was it three years ago? That doesn’t seem right. It still feels like it was just the other day.

“I needed a change,” is all Junhui says, and the words hurt coming out. He can’t handle this. He thinks he might be sick if Minghao doesn’t walk away soon, or if he doesn’t come up with some way to excuse himself.

He was never supposed to see any of them again.

Minghao looks like he wants to say something, and Junhui honestly has no idea what - nothing he expected to come of seeing Minghao again has happened - but as Minghao opens his mouth, his phone goes off. Junhui recognizes the snippet of a song that plays, and it makes something in him ache.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Minghao turns on the screen and makes a face before he looks back up at Junhui as he says, “I have to go. It was nice to see you again, Jun. Really.” He only takes two steps away before he turns again, saying, “If you ever want to- to catch up, my number’s the same.” He smiles, but it doesn’t look happy, doesn’t reach his eyes, and he gives a small, timid wave. Then he’s gone.

It’s hard, near impossible even, for Junhui to tell if he’s relieved that Minghao’s gone or if he’s devastated. He doesn’t feel any more capable of breathing, doesn’t feel any more calm. He’s not sure he feels anything. Except, no. No, he feels panicked.

His plan failed. His grand idea of moving away - of moving on, of getting a little apartment with big windows that could coat the floors in sunlight, and of getting a cat to enjoy said sunlight - has been made fruitless. He should have moved across the country, or an ocean.

He was never supposed to see any of them again.

Yet, after seeing Minghao, after a full year apart, Junhui can’t deny that he misses him. He misses all of them. He misses the way Minghao used to excitedly show him his paintings. He misses the way Mingyu used to cuddle him in the mornings. He misses the way Wonwoo used to squint at him when Junhui stole his glasses.

Junhui would say he loved them, but that would be a lie. What he felt for all of them was so much more. He didn’t just love them, Junhui adored them. And he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s been forced to confront the fact that he still does.

**Author's Note:**

> Art is only complete once it has been witnessed. Want to help finish a story? Leave a comment. If you have a thought after reading a fic, tell the author about it. Comments motivate, inspire, and please us immensely - like a cat getting pats. So spread a little goodness, support your fandom authors and leave a comment to let them know you see their work.


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